Chapter 13
Penny
“Hey, Mami,” I call as I enter my childhood home, stomping snow off my boots.
“Mi amor, hi,” she greets me from the chaise on the three-season porch. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I shrug out of my coat, suddenly exhausted. Between the endless snow, the long drives to Azalea Creek, and work eating up every waking hour, I’ve barely felt human lately.
Not to mention my shoes are getting ruined by the salt and ice melt around the construction site.
I feel terrible not having made the time to meet with Easton yet. I just haven’t felt up to seeing anyone besides my parents—I still have dinner with them at least once a week.
Miles—his very capable hands—have occupied an embarrassing amount of space in my brain too. Besides work, obviously.
The girls have been great at checking in on me. I’ve never really been big on texting or constantly keeping up with friends, but this group of women somehow makes it easy.
The cookie exchange party has been set for the first weekend in December, and even though I can’t bake to save my life, I suddenly feel the need to show up with the most amazing recipe.
And no, the fact that Miles will be there has absolutely nothing to do with my sudden interest in baking.
I mean, the man’s great in the kitchen. I don’t need to be too.
I glance at the book she set on the side table. “What are you reading?” I ask instead of answering her question.
“Oh, a romance novel a friend recommended.” She grabs the book and hands it to me.
The first thing I notice is the beautiful cover, with gold lettering and flowers.
“I’ve never heard of this author before,” I murmur as I flip the book over to read the bio.
“Oh, yes. She’s an indie author, but lives here in North Carolina, so I decided to give her a chance. It’s actually very entertaining.” Her voice grows more animated as she tells me about the story and gives me a quick summary of what she’s read so far.
“You know what? I’ll give it to you once I’m done. I think it’d be a good read for you.”
“How come?” I ask, looking at her intently, fully invested in whatever answer she’s about to give me.
“Well, hija…” She shrugs. “You’re still single. You need to find spice somewhere, even if it’s through the pages of a book.”
I burst out laughing. Of course, my mother worries about the level of spice in my life.
“Unless…” she says in a hushed tone.
“What, Mami?” I ask, wiping tears from my eyes.
“Unless the MacAllister boy is already adding spice to your life.”
This should be an easy answer.
No, Ma. He’s not.
But I stay quiet, and apparently that’s all the ammunition she needs.
“Hmmm. Sometimes silence is louder than words.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” I shake my head. “But no, Mami. Miles and I are just coworkers.”
The lie comes out so easily, I almost believe it myself.
I mean, technically, that’s what we are. The fact that we’ve had a couple of very sexy moments together is a whole different issue.
“Anywho,” I say quickly. “The reason I came by is because I need your help.”
Her entire demeanor brightens. “What can I help with?” she asks, clasping her hands together excitedly.
“So, the MacAllister girls—Ruin and Rain—are hosting a Christmas cookie exchange, and I thought it’d be fun to participate.”
“I see.” Her voice goes completely flat.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, carefully.
“Well, Penny Bean, you’re not the most talented person in the kitchen. It’s a good thing you came to me.” She pats my arm, and I scowl at her.
She laughs and waves me off. “Come on. We need to brainstorm. Do you have an idea of what kind of cookie you want to bake?”
I lift my eyebrows and purse my lips.
Mama lets out a dramatic sigh. “Oh, dear.”
Together, we head into the kitchen and pull out her recipe books.
Since there isn’t really a traditional Colombian Christmas cookie, Mami decides we should make a sugar cookie decorated like faroles with royal icing.
One of the Christmas traditions in Colombia is lighting candles to honor the mother of Jesus. The faroles are made from colorful paper with intricate cutout designs, and once you place a candle inside, they glow like little kaleidoscopes.
Instead of baking the cookies now and risking them going stale before the party, I take plenty of notes and decide I’ll try making them myself next week.
As I taste one of the practice cookies, my phone pings with a message.
Easton: Hi Penny. I’m at the club and I was wondering if you could spare an hour or two to meet up.
My first reaction to his text is annoyance. It feels oddly demanding.
Yeah, we are friends. But it’s not like I owe him anything.
Mami looks over my shoulder, and her eyes light up when she sees Easton’s name.
“I heard he was back, but I haven’t actually seen him yet. I’m sure you two have so much to catch up on.”
I shrug, because honestly, I’m not really looking forward to meeting up with him. But I did tell him I’d think about things. And I promised we’d talk.
“I saw him the other day and promised we’d meet up when we had more time to chat. So… I guess the time has come.”
I finish my cookie and silently pray that the ones I bake next week taste just as good.
Penny: Sure! I’ll be there in about an hour.
Easton: *HeartEmoji*
“I’m heading out,” I say as I give Mami a big hug.
“Take care, kiddo. And please say hi to Easton for us.”
“By the way, where’s Dad?”
“He’s at the club. He said he needed to meet with a few investors.”
I frown. Since when does Dad need investors?
“I decided to stay and enjoy my book. And look.” She smiles warmly at me. “I got to spend the afternoon baking with you.”
She hugs me again, and I melt into her embrace.
Maybe I’m biased, but my mom is the best in the whole world.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Easton greets the second he sees me.
I smile as we hug.
“You look stunning, Pen.” His eyes gleam with sincerity.
“Thank you,” I say as he helps me to my chair.
The black velvet pants feel soft against my legs with every move, and the silky red blouse tied in a bow at my neck makes me feel festive enough for the season.
As soon as I arrive, one of the staff members escorts me straight to a small table in the main restaurant. At first, I don’t think much of it—people are constantly being guided around the club.
But the second I sit across from Easton, I realize this table is tucked away in one of the quieter corners of the restaurant. Private. Intimate.
More suited for a date than two old friends catching up.
“So, what have you been up to?” I ask, trying to get the conversation going.
“Well, you know.” He shrugs casually. “Getting back into the groove of things around here."
Then he raises a hand, signaling for the waiter.
After ordering wine, appetizers, and a salad for me, I press for more details. Easton has never been the type to sit around and let life happen to him.
“So getting in the groove means what exactly. Have you thought about opening an office downtown?”
His laugh catches me by surprise.
“Did I say something funny?” I ask. “What am I missing?”
“I’m sorry.” He chuckles, apparently still amused. “Opening an office downtown sounds very Mad Men, you know?”
He dabs at the corners of his eyes even though there aren’t any tears.
When I stay quiet, he keeps going.
“I can work from home. There’s really no need for me to have an office somewhere else.”
I nod, understanding his point.
“I’m going to say it straight, since that’s how you like it,” he says, and just like that, his entire demeanor changes.
The warm, charming Easton disappears.
In his place sits the ruthless businessman I’ve seen countless times before.
“Are you marrying me?”
I raise an eyebrow.
I expected him to ask again eventually. I didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it.
I let out a sigh, bracing myself for whatever comes after I deliver the truth.
“You know your friendship means the world to me,” I say carefully. “But nothing matters more to me than my family, and I’m not willing to jeopardize my relationship with my parents.”
A brittle laugh leaves him. “Wow. Are you serious right now?”
I shrug slightly. “Yes, of course I’m serious. The moment we get married, my mother will start asking for grandkids, and as much as I care about you, I don’t want kids. Never have.”
Something that looks a lot like hurt flashes across Easton’s face before he buries it.
“Would it really be so terrible to have a child with me?” he asks quietly. “I’m a good man, Penelope.”
The guilt trip puts me on edge. So does hearing my full name coming from his mouth. I should’ve shut this down the first time he brought it up.
“I’m sorry this isn’t what you expected to hear, but I never promised I’d say yes. I just told you I’d think about it.” My tone stays calm, but there’s no room left for argument.
Easton nods slowly, absorbing my words.
“If your family really is your top priority,” he says as he tosses his napkin onto the table with more force than necessary, “then I think you should reconsider your answer.”
Then he stands.
“I’ll talk to you later. Have a great day.”
I watch him walk out of the restaurant, unease curling low in my stomach.
The mention of my parents keeps echoing in my head long after he disappears.
Why did it sound less like advice… and more like a threat?